Of Angels and Grace
by Roxu
Summary: "Why are you still here? He - Raziel, he's gone. Our Father is gone. He doesn't care." Castiel stared at the woman sitting on the bed prior to him, her face completely calm and kind as she reached forward and brushed her fingers against his cheek. "Hebrews 11:1 - Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." Castiel/OC ... R&R!
1. Orders are Orders

**_Of Angels and Grace – _**_Orders are Orders_

**_"_**_To be an angel  
bend don't break  
To be an angel  
give don't take  
To be an angel  
Come down to earth  
To be an angel  
In Wisdom worth  
To be an angel  
Gracious be  
To be an angel  
Guide others to see  
To be an angel  
Share what you know  
To be an angel  
In thoughts and words,  
To be an angel  
you move toward  
To be an angel  
in actions show.  
Then finally  
be an Angel of Love  
from Heaven above."_

* * *

**_ Epilogue:_**

****The silence was serene and peaceful, the words being unspoken between two individuals as they observed the breathtaking scene before them. It was one of allure and elegance, the sunrise horizon of Earth. Flares of violet red, floral pink, orange, and light purple swirling around to where the magnificent sun was gradually, so slowly rising for the day.

Raziel closed her eyes as the delicate sunrays washed over her invisible, true form. Her long, colossal white wings fluttered gently as the warmth settled over them like a glaze of icing. "Earth is truly a piece of art," she spoke softly, though her voice held no detecting emotion, "Father has created something so extraordinary."

"Yes," a male voice answered, "yes, he has indeed."

Raziel cracked open one of her eyes, giving her partner, her brother, her friend, a long study through her sharpened orb. "We have been assigned such a tasking mission, my brother, shall we accomplish this?"

Castiel flickered her with a peering gaze before returning his eyes to the horizon, a golden hue settling around his face and wings. "We will."

"By Gods' will," Raziel declined her eyes to the city below them. "Our Vessels are ready, Castiel, shall we go?" The Angel knew that they couldn't just pick _any_ Vessel. They weren't Demons; they wouldn't just see a person and go swinging over to take their free will, which has always been granted, away. Raziel knew her Vessel already, having picked her out beforehand.

Her name was Cassandra Blake. She was pretty, to Raziel, for she was God's loving creation. With curly honey brown hair, glowing blue eyes, and a healthy build – she was a worthy Vessel in those aspects, but those weren't the reason to why Raziel had chosen Cassandra.

It was because of her faith. Her _hope_. To Raziel, when she felt humans' overflowing emotions, it was almost too much to handle. Cassandra's undying faith radiated from her heart, pulsing and streaming through the air around her like an aura. Cassandra was a nurse, defending and serving the public for minor and fatal injuries, at the solid age of twenty-nine, she was neither married nor having any living offspring's.

But she had prayed. She prayed every night before slumber and every time before she ate a meal. Raziel admired humans who obediently served and worshiped their one and true Father. As Raziel split away from Castiel, she did not worry for his sake. Castiel was a very intelligent and powerful being; he could search out a whole city in mere minutes.

Soon, only following by instinct, Raziel neared a half-opened horizontal sliding glass window that was lined with potted green plants that bloomed with a variety of altering flowers. She cocked her head to the side as Cassandra Blake strolled across the room in a hurrying rush, blindly grabbing at a handbag and cellphone. She was dressed in clothing in that of a nurse, long curly hair flying everywhere uncaringly.

Raziel's body began to glow, though it was invisible to the human eye. Will you serve your Father, Cassandra Blake? Raziel examined the woman closely as the nurse froze in her steps, blue eyes widening uncontrollably, shoulders shaking unknowingly.

"This isn't real," the woman breathed out in a trembling voice. But as the questioned dawned on the woman's mind, she nodded quickly with jerks. "Y-Yes, yes, I serve my Lord."

My name is Raziel, Cassandra, you know what I am?

"Raziel? R-Ra . . . A-As in a – erm, an An-Angel . . ."

Please do not fear me, Cassandra Blake. I wish to ask you something.

The nurse licked her lips, gained a bolder face, and nodded once more. "A-Anything."

I am an Angel of the Lord, Cassandra Blake, and I wish to inhabitant your body until my mission has completed through my Father's Will.

"Y-You mean . . ."

Yes, as in my Vessel.

Cassandra finally had the nerve to set her handbag down on the small stand beside the front door, her knees wobbling with the effort of keeping her upright. She began scanning around her, shockingly calm. "Why can't I see you?"

Some may see my true form. Many become too overwhelmed.

"I believe you," Cassandra nodded her head and smiled friendly, "I give you my permission, Raziel. To use my body as your vessel."

I thank you, Raziel said to the human, voice threatening on becoming a softer tone. There was a sudden, blinding flash of silvery white light, and a gasp of air. When Raziel peeled open her eyes, she soon became aware that she was not in her true form, her blue eyes now gazing around the area with a profound curiosity. She licked her lips, finding the sensations all around her very strange and foreign.

_ I am in my working clothes, it would be best to change. _Raziel briefly heard Cassandra explain to her, her voice sounding strained and very weary. _What happened?_

"You're just weak, it will pass eventually. I apologize for that." The Angel then began changing her clothes into what Cassandra told her would be appropriate for her mission. Jeans, boots, a simple shirt, and a dark, reddish-brown pea coat that the human instructed her to put on mentally. Raziel didn't mind, she knew hardly much culture in this world.

The Angel closed her eyes and reopened them.

She was now standing what seemed like floating air, chains linked all around her, some random and some expertly hooked together at ends connection. The air was a smoke green, truly vile and toxic, even to an Angel. Raziel knew of others laying siege against Hell, attempting and fighting to get Dean Winchester out of this place, for this was _not_ his destiny. His fate was meant for more, and being tortured for any longer would most definitely not be swell.

"Are you prepared?"

Raziel tilted her head to the side, a man slowly coming to her view. He wasn't tall, but he did have a few inches higher than Cassandra's height. His hair was short, brown, and spiked up a bit at the front. His chiseled face was only a five o'clock shadow, with full lips, a straight nose, and piercing blue eyes that mirrored Cassandra's. He was dressed in a suit setup, a tan trench coat trailing down to his below his knees.

"I am to my fullest, brother," Raziel examined the area around her, the screams of the tortured souls rebounding away from her. "Where is Dean Winchester?"

"It is a matter of finding," Castiel didn't waste time as she heard his wings ruffle. He switched to his true form in a matter of seconds, awaiting for her to do the same as they zoomed through the depths of Hell. Perhaps she was making it sound more accessible, but she was fooling herself, Raziel was halfway through with choking on the toxin. Hell was no place for an Angel, just like Heaven was no place for a Demon.

Raziel twisted herself and changed to her Vessel just as a Demon came slashing through the air where she had previously been, his face twisting into that of a disfigured skeleton. Black smoke billowed behind him, trailing away from his hooves that were meant to be feet. "_Ooooh_, Angel blood, just what I need," the Demon grinned viciously.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but Castiel drew her attention away for a split second. Her eyes locked on Dean Winchester's prone body through the vast amount of chains. He was a broken heap of blood and bones, his face unrecognizable and multiple and multiple amounts of different styles of injuries all around his naked person. Raziel closed her eyes, opened them, and emotionlessly turned toward the Demon who was still smirking mockingly. "What, in Father's Holy word, compelled anyone to do that to a human?"

The Demon's grin only grew wider. "Three things, my lovely little Angel. One, you damned God's holy word won't do you much around here; two, you can't really call Dean Winchester human anymore, I mean look at _him_!" The Demon gestured cheerfully toward the meat hanging off of the man's bones; the skin had been peeled away a long time ago. "And three; I'm going to pluck off your tiny wings with joy."

"I will hurry," she heard Castiel tell her. Raziel knew what he wanted her to do: stall and keep them away from him so he could free Dean Winchester. Usually, most civil people would thing Angels being capable of anything – but this was like walking onto a hostile, alien world with no directions. Hell was _endless_, literally, just as Heaven was. Castiel and she had to end and hurry this along in a timely fashion, or every planned solution they had come up with would fall to their feet in crumbles of dust.

Raziel grabbed the Demon's wrist when he charged at her, a blade appearing in his clawed, talon-like hand. There was hardly a chance to where she could change into her true form, the spacious around her was far too small, and she could not risk getting placed in a vulnerable situation. The Demon unleashed a lethal roar of rage as Raziel executed him by a simple grab of her hand. _A low-level Demon_, she was fortunate for that.

"Bitch," a voice bit out. Raziel didn't cry out when she felt something hit her in the chest, sending her human body against one of the rusted, metal chains. She didn't flinch when fingers twisted tightly around her throat, lifting her up and bringing a demonic face in her line of sight.

"Alastair," she stated. "We have come to take what rightfully belongs to us."

The Higher Demon sneered, his non-existent lips pulling back in a nasty sneer to bare his sharp, razor teeth. "I don't think so." He gripped her neck in a vise, suddenly grinning cruelly. "How about I send you back to Daddy, and you can explain to him how you failed and killed _the_ Dean Winchester?" Alastair winked a pure white orb.

"_Omni potentas dei potestatum invoco_

_Omni potentas dei potestatum invoco_

_Aborbe terran"_

Raziel lurched back in a moment of disguised surprise, the Angel Banishment spell searing through her mind as he hissed out the ritual words. "Cas –"She choked when Alastair compressed his hand. "Castiel, _finish_ _now_!" She couldn't help but almost cringe at the thought of going to Heaven with nothing but a painful burden of failing her Father. She couldn't. She _wouldn't_.

And suddenly, the aftermath of a powerful spell made her freeze like a statue while Alastair frowned in confusion . . .

. . . and howl with venom when he realized Castiel and Raziel were long gone, vanishing from Hell in that one second.


	2. The Costs of True Forms

**_Of Angels and Grace – _**_The Costs of True Forms_

_"__Hope" is the thing with feathers  
That perches in the soul  
And sings the tune without the words  
And never stops at all,"_

_- Emily Dickinson_

******_Chapter 1: _**

"So he cannot hear us," Raziel commented from beside Castiel in her Vessels form, standing at a long distance as Dean Winchester staggered away from the broken, impaired small mart. She observed indifferently as he stumbled onto the faded blue payphone booth. Raziel was almost positive that he should _have_ been able to see them, to seek out their words, but such a thing was nonsensical, supposedly. "I am surprised," she didn't sound shocked at all.

"He is Chosen," Castiel breathed in deeply and gave her a placid stare, "that is all that matters."

"He is a poor human." Raziel began roaming forward, her dark brown knee-high boots crunching underneath loose twigs and aimless patches of gravel. "Alastair is cruel, even for a Demon." She truly felt sympathetic for the pathetic, deplorable Hunter, his eyes preyed upon and his soul trapped within a living nightmare. "I am almost contented that we were assigned to watch over Dean Winchester."

Castiel narrowed his eyes at her, confused and motionless at the same time. He stayed in step beside her, their arms brushing frequently as they strolled a way behind Dean. "Why would you be contented, Raziel?"

"Do you not think that letting Dean Winchester come to know and have Faith, would become to be a wonderful blessing, Castiel?" Raziel blinked gently, her azure blue eyes regarding her superior's undemonstrative face. "So much _evil_ in this world . . . What has become of it? The 66 Seals are unattainable to prevent. 66 out of _600_, what equality of a chance do we preserve?"

"It will not matter in the end, Raziel," her closest friend closed his mouth tightly and then unsealed his lips once more. "We will prevail."

"I believe you, my brother." Raziel linked her fingers together behind her back, eyes gazing as the pasty white old car sped through the driveway of the Mart's parking lot, rock and dirt flinging through the air. "I have Faith."

* * *

Raziel crossed her legs on top of the stained, faded marble counter directly beside the oven, her invisible form observing the scene in front of her with a distinct interest.

Bobby Singer was an intriguing human, at least, in her opinion. It was slightly amusing to see someone polar opposite from Castiel. The male angel had been with her for so long that she couldn't count how many minutes, years, or even millenniums. In Heaven they had been partners in their Angel Garrison, they had been partners when watching over the Earth for a thousand years, and now on Earth once again they were. It was a graceful blessing, really – she wouldn't hesitate to defend Castiel from danger, after such a long periods of time, it was beginning to become instinct.

She didn't exactly apprehend _why_ she was here, in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, but Castiel had given her specific orders to observe and protect Dean from anything. This covered the basics of anything fatal, she wouldn't interfere with a small stab wound, or a broken bone – her identity was sacred at the moment.

Raziel hopped off the counter and trailed after Bobby and Dean, who were in a circular-like office. It was trashed with newspapers, piles of old, lore books, and weapons being laid on any object. " . . . Not much," Dean was saying, his brow furrowed in concentration, "I remember I was a Hellhounds chew _toy_, and then lights out." He raised his left hand in an 'I-don't-really-know-how-to-put-this' kind of way. "And then I woke up six feet under."

_Why must you lie, Dean Winchester? Are you protecting yourself by slandering the truth? _Raziel moved until she was right beside Dean, staring intently at the side of his chiseled face, where she could see past his deceit. _Why _must_ I feel empathy for this man? _Raziel creased her lips into a thin line and frowned with turbulence.

Bobby fumbled to sit down into the chair behind him, his face twisted as he tried to take in all the information accordingly to how Dean explained it. "Sam's numbers not working," Dean stated gloweringly, "_ugh_, he's not – _he's_ not . . ."

"Oh, he's alive," Bobby replied almost instantly, guilt and indiscretion gnarring at his aging features. " . . . Far as I know."

Dean closed his eyes and nodded deliberately, almost as if he was trying to agree with himself. He reopened his eyes and raised his eyebrows. "Good," he said with relief, rubbing at his nose with a dish towel draped across his shoulder. "_Wait_ – what do you mean _'far as I know'_?"

"I haven't talked to him in months."

"You're _kidding_! You just let him go off by himself?" Dean growled out with an apprehensive scowl on his lips.

"He was dead set on it." Bobby stood back up to his feet, moving back around the opposite way of Dean.

"Bobby, you should have been looking after him!"

The older Hunter turned to the eldest Winchester sibling with wide, indignant eyes that flared with anger. "I've _tried_," he bit out. "These last months' haven't been exactly _easy_, y'know, for him or me. We had to _bury_ you."

"Why _did_ you bury me, anyway?"

Bobby shrugged. "I wanted to salt and burn, the usual drill;" Dean nodded along in agreement, "Sam wouldn't have it."

Dean looked amused and sarcastic as he messed with a loose thread at the end of his shirt. "Well I'm glad he won that one."

"He said you'd need a body when he'd get you back home somehow," Bobby narrowed his eyes at his words. "That's about all he said."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

Bobby heaved a sigh and shook his shoulders in a way to indicate that he wasn't sure. "He was quiet," he sat on the corner of his desk in prior to Dean, "real quiet. And then," he waved a hand, "he just took it off. Wouldn't return my calls. I tried to find him, but he doesn't wanna be found."

Dean groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, his distressed face morphing into that of mutual disappointment. "Ahh, _goddammit_, Sammy!"

Bobby frowned with confusion, "What?"

"Oh, he got me home, okay." Dean rubbed his chin and blinked multiple times. "But whatever he did is _bad_ mojo."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Should have seen the gravesite, it was like a nuke went off – then there was like this . . . this force, this presence, I don't _know_!" He tugged his hand through his hair and tensed. "But It – It – it like blew past me at a Philip joint." He set down the dish towel and began tugging off the flannel shirt he had been wearing open. "And then there's this." He rolled up his tee-shirt sleeve to reveal a burned handprint into his left shoulder, welts tinted a dark pink.

Bobby gaped at the injury, moving from the desk and travelling around a chair to examine the wound closely. "What in the hell?"

"Looks like a Demon just yanked me out, or rode me out," he shrugged nonchalantly, but anyone could see that he was worried over his brother and himself.

"But why?" Bobby's eyes were still wide.

"To hold up their end of the bargain."

"You think that Sam made a deal?"

Dean glimpsed down at the creaking, slowly rotten floorboards of the house and frowned, concern shadowing his face as he glanced back up at his surrogate father. "That's what I would've done."

Raziel was peering at the duo of Hunters with a flat expression, her back straight, her stance alert. She was despondent, really, she couldn't believe that these two were that less logical. They think that a _demon_ dragged him out of purgatory? That did not even make a fragment of sense. And of course Sam Winchester couldn't make a Deal, if they had the right mind to realize who Sam Winchester _was_, they would realize that as well. Raziel closed her eyes.

"Greetings, Castiel," her voice was clipped and reserved, her eyes revealing to now be located at an old, trashed warehouse with empty crates littered across the cracked cement floor. Directly in front of her stood Castiel, his head tilted to the side, gaze searching her face. "I have come to learn that humans are clueless," she said simply.

"And stubborn, yes," Castiel glanced around the desolated repository before frowning. "I need to speak with you."

"Here I am."

"Dean has already broken the first Seal."

Raziel, in a rare moment, showed ultimate surprise as her mouth opened in close with perplexity. "I . . . don't understand," she shook her head; "we . . . didn't get to him in time?"

"Yes," Castiel said. "Not even close."

Raziel gritted her teeth gratingly. "What are our orders?"

"To reveal ourselves to Dean Winchester." The male Angel circled around Raziel slowly, examining the loose crevices in the floor. "In our Vessels, of course."

"What if he can see and hear us?" She questioned him.

"We have pursued that and failed." Castiel stopped in front of her, the tip of his shoes touching hers as he gazed down at her face. "Why try again?"

"Castiel," she eyed the blue tie that was loose around the collar of his white shirt, "we had just got done transporting Dean Winchester out of purgatory, he may have been . . . out of his senses, at best."

"Do you sincerely believe that?"

"No, not at all. But it makes me feel more sophisticated if I knew he could see us in our True Forms." Raziel answered him honestly. Secretly, it gave her more hope that Dean Winchester was who she thought he would be.

"Very well," Castiel pronounced, "you will find him and try once more. If it does not work, then we will go that following night."

"Alright. You do know that your handprint is marked onto his shoulder, correct?" Raziel observed her partner as his eyes flickered from side-to-side, as if he was searching for danger was unseeable. "They can contact you via that."

Castiel glimpsed down at her with consideration. "I know. If it happens, then allow it to happen – they have free will, I will not stop them."

Raziel sighed faintly under her breath and took a step back away from him, cocking her head to the side as words from far away slithered into her mind. "Uriel is here? Since when?"

"Since now," a deep voice broke through Castiel's silence. Raziel blinked slowly and turned her head to see her Garrison comrade, Uriel. His Vessel was tall and black, with a bald head and deep brown eyes. With him wearing a plain dark suit, Raziel would say the character fitted him rather well. She raised her head to him, nodding respectfully and raising a hand in a show acknowledgment.

"Uriel, my friend, it has been a while. You are well?"

"As well as I'll ever be," he grunted out. Raziel almost rolled her eyes at him. Uriel was her brother, but he seemed to be the only one who had a sense of humor to where everything was gloomy. "Castiel, Raziel," his inky eyes cut into them instinctively, "Lilith is currently searching for the second seal to be broken, we have yet to gain Intel on _where_." Uriel now stood beside the two Angels, face drawn back and face sullen.

"Should not we be searching on _what_ the seal is?" She asked.

Castiel instantly responded, "No, Raziel. As you said before, there are 66 out of 600 Seals, there is no precise definite on what it could be." His blue eyes stayed glued on Raziel's. "We need to stop it."

"Or halt its progress," Uriel snorted. He sounded as if he knew that the Seals would be broken relentlessly despite the Garrisons being there.

Raziel raised her chin to her brothers and nodded once. "Fare thee well, Uriel, Castiel, I shall see you both very soon."

"Raziel," the three all parted with a flutter of wings.

* * *

"Dean . . . _Dean_ I need you to hear me!" Raziel nearly shouted, but she could only watch with an impassive frown when her True Form's voice overpowered the man's hearing and he dropped to the carpeted floor, holding his bleeding ears in both hands as he shouted in pain. She didn't _want _to cause him discomfort or any inflicting wound, all Raziel needed was for Dean to hear her. _To see her_.

But she knew he couldn't. "_Dean_!" The TV and lights flickered and popped loudly, the light bulbs bursting into tiny fragmented shards of fiber glass.

Raziel shot a look at the door when Bobby Singer burst inside with a frantic expression, remnants of a busted window shot at him and he turned his back on it. "Dean! _Dean_!" The older Hunter hollered.

The female Angel felt herself huff and disappear without as much as a move, her Vessel now materializing behind a contemplating Castiel. "You were right," she said. "He cannot see or hear us, unfortunately." She twisted around his still form until she was in front of Castiel, cobalt blue eyes burning with curiosity. "What now, Castiel?"

"We will reveal ourselves, just as they want." He explained shortly.

"'They want'? You mean –"

"Yes, they tried to contact me. And they did. The Psychic saw my True Form and paid the consequence for not heeding my warning."

Raziel shook her head at his words. "As you said before, humans are stubborn." She glanced around where she was poised standing and saw she was outside, the night sky eerily black with a crescent moon glowing silver to her far left. They were surrounded by a foliage of foliage and forest, but behind her, as she turned around and now having her back to Castiel, she saw that there was a small white shed, and a colossal red barn. They both looked neglected and deserted, but looks can be deceiving. "This is where Dean Winchester is," she said after a moment in a matter-of-face tone.

"Yes."

"They think we are Demons, obviously, I feel the power of the sigils they have been scribing." Raziel began striding across the road separating them from the barn, her boots treading across the fissured asphalt.

When Castiel and Raziel entered the barn with a push of the entrance doorway, she tilted her head sideways as the barn's tinned roof clapped and pounded against its wooden beams, as the lights above them burst with each step the Angels took. She inclined herself to concentrate on the man who would decide the fate of Earth before her. He was perhaps six-foot-one, Castiel's Vessel's height, with short spiky brown hair and dark green eyes. He was standing beside Bobby Singer, erect and gripping a sawed-off shotgun with a strong grip.

Raziel glimpsed at all of the pentagrams and sigils and raised an eyebrow. These Hunters didn't know anything close to who they were. Her gazed travelled back to Dean and Bobby just as the two shot at Castiel and her, their gun fires hardly fazing her a bit. She could feel the bullets bounce off her like steel metal.

Dean turned to the stand beside him and picked up a dagger which was familiar to Raziel. It was a knife that killed demons . . . How _funny_. Raziel stayed slightly behind Castiel as the man circled Dean, turning to face the Hunter leisurely and almost curiously. "Who are you?" The eldest Winchester spat out, clutching the knife tighter.

"I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition," Castiel explained blankly, sending a short glance to the Angel behind him. "She is the one who assisted in your rise."

"Yeah, _right_," Dean scowled with an infuriating growl, "thanks for that." And without a blink of surprise, Raziel shifted only slightly when she saw Dean swiftly dash forward and plunge Castiel in the heart with the dagger.

Castiel blinked and paused, staring down at the dagger before reaching up and gripping the sheath, yanking it out without hesitance and still watching Dean's surprised face as he released it to the ground.

Right when Dean glanced at Bobby anxiously, who was behind her and Castiel, she anticipated his movements before he even moved to do so. Raziel reached back and grabbed the crowbar without thought, her hand tugging at the metal so that she could reach forward and press her middle and index finger against Bobby Singer's forehead, forcing him into a dreamless slumber.

Dean was speechless. His mouth was agape and his eyes were inclusively wide.

"We need to talk Dean. Alone." Castiel said after Bobby had collapsed on the floor unconscious, deep into sleep.

The Hunter ignored him completely and crouched down beside his surrogate father, checking the pulse on his throat with evident worry. He breathed heavily through his nose before revolving his head to glare at Raziel with hate. "You're friends alive," she declared blandly, observing her partner as he flipped through the book that had been on the stand beside him. Raziel, just like Castiel, had always been intrusive toward Earth, so everything they found was another object to analyze.

"Who are you?" Dean demanded forcefully.

"Castiel." He didn't look up from the book, just flipping to a next page.

"Raziel," she nodded her head in affirmation.

He narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, _no_ – I mean what you_ are_."

Castiel effectively paused altogether and peered to the crouching Dean with azure eyes. "We are Angels of the Lord."

Dean parted his lips, but gave no response. He looked blank and frigid as he stood up gradually from his crouch. "Get the hell out of here, both of you," he growled gutturally. "There's no such thing."

"This is your problem, Dean," Raziel shifted until she was standing beside Castiel, her face reflecting no emotion. "You have no Faith." Castiel suddenly opened his hands and lightning suddenly flashed from outside, sending roars from the strikes on the ground. Behind them, she knew that there were shadows revealing their large, spreading wings.

"Some Angels you are," Dean finally said after stunned silence. "You burned out that poor woman's eyes."

"I warned her not to spy on my True Form." Castiel shrugged and took a small step forward as he glanced around toward his feet. "It can be . . . overwhelming to some humans and so can our real voice. Though," he sent Raziel a small, sideways glance, "you already knew that."

" . . . You mean the gas station and the motel? That was you _talking_?"

Castiel nodded in the slightest. "The first time was me. Raziel attempted to try and speak with you in that Motel room."

Dean pursed his lips and shook his head with a sardonic expression. "Guys, next time lower your volume."

" . . . That was my mistake," Raziel finally voiced with a tone of sincerity. "I thought that you were a certain type of people, special people, who could perceive our true visage. I thought you could be one of them . . . I was wrong." Not to mention that she had wasted time doing so. Her she was, trying to get Dean to see her true self yet Lilith was out there searching to break the second Seal.

"And what visage are you in now, _huh_? _What_? Holy tax accountants?" Dean was alert and guarded, glancing both ways every few seconds before turning his burning glare back to them.

"_These_ – This is," Castiel grabbed the front of his tan trench coat and then let go, letting his hands drop back to his sides, "our Vessels."

"You both possess some poor _civilians_?" Dean sneered with disgust.

"They're both devoted people, they both prayed for this," Castiel said nonchalantly.

"Look, _pals_, I'm not buying what you're selling so who are you _really_?"

Castiel furrowed his eyebrows in bewilderment and cocked his head to the side. " . . . I told you."

Dean nodded before mocking the Angels with a look at them as if they were complete idiots. "_Right_," he spat, "and why would _Angels'_ rescue _me_ from Hell?"

Raziel stepped forward and examined Dean with that of confusion and acquisitiveness. "Good things do happen, Dean," she explained to him.

He scowled at her with a look that read 'you-have-no-idea-in-hell-what-you-are-talking-abo ut'. "Not in my experience."

"What's the matter?" Castiel studied Dean's face intently and Raziel knew he had just read the Hunter's mind. " . . . You don't think you deserve to be saved."

Dean swallowed a visible lump in his throat, doubts and pain lingering in his haunted emerald orbs. "Why'd you both do it?"

"Because God commanded it," Castiel explained. "Because we have work for you."


	3. The 66 Seals

**_Of Angels and Grace – _**_The 66 Seals_

_"Death is not the end. Death can never be the end._

_Death is the road. Life is the traveller. The soul is the guide."_

_- Sri Chinmoy_

**_ Chapter 2: _**

Castiel – metaphorically Novak – clutched the Demon's face into his right hand, her roars and howls of rage muffled as he dragged her forward through the mud that had collected because of the downpour of turbulent rain. He didn't spare the Demon a second glass as she screamed in pain from the white light shining through his eyes and mouth, his touch having killing her almost simultaneously.

Castiel averted his eyes to sweep them across the overall deserted area, his body tense and rigid. He had planned on this being another counterproductive lead, mostly because Raziel and he had found next to nothing on everything leading toward the Seals. It had even become such a futile find that he had even tried to contact Heaven, but their answer was the same: "_Have Faith_."

He _did_ have Faith, though. Didn't they comprehend that? But then after a wide spread of death omens, Castiel and Raziel were now located in Aztalan State Park, Lake Mills, Wisconsin. It was once the home of an ancient Middle-Mississippian village that thrived nearly a thousand years ago, people he had once guarded. When he had learned of the profound energy presence here, he instantly had told Raziel and they had teleported. As legend goes, there was an old burial ground here, but only one woman was there. It contained the remains of a young woman dressed in elaborate seashell jewelry and beads, and some refer to her as "The Princess."

After thirty minutes of researching, that's when the Demons' began to reveal themselves from the darkness of the shadows. Castiel had been slightly miffed by the amount that was here, more than a dozen at the least. He had lost sight of Raziel soon after the first four had begun an assault on him.

By his knowledge, the Demons needed to take the woman's jewelry and beads and douse them in lambs' blood before setting the contents on fire. Castiel reached up and wiped the excess of blood from his nose with the sleeve of his trench coat, sending a placid frown as lightning flashed and formulated a boom across the cloudy sky.

Closing his eyes, Castiel exposed them just as he knew he'd find his destination directly above the burial ground. The male Angel was about to finish the deed of removing the remains of the woman below him, aware that if he did so, then this particular Seal would be useless to being broken if they didn't have the special artifacts. But he was attacking the person who had leaped in front of him.

Castiel grappled for the persons' hair or shirt collar, craning their neck back so that his hand could come forward and touch their forehead.

"_Cas_! Castiel, it is me!" Raziel shouted through the thundering typhoon of the lightning storm, her hands inherently shooting up to rip away his hands from her face. Her face was nearly unrecognizable. Her nose was broken, surely, and she also had a harsh slash across her right cheek.

He blinked, slowly beginning to identify the person in front of him – or, _below_ him, actually. Castiel face softened in relief only for a second at the sight of his long-time friend, his body veering up so that he could shift himself off of her – and then he felt the source of a presence behind him. He felt Raziel manage to bring herself up on her feet just as the single Demon attacked Castiel from behind.

His chest slammed into the opaque ground without resistance, though Castiel didn't feel anything that his Vessel did. The Demon wrapped his hands around the back of the Angel's head, already muttering around the incantation of the Exorcism chant, causing a burning sensation to travel through his head and down to his torso.

Castiel choked on his breath just as the Demon was being knocked off of him by Raziel. She rolled once on her back before pinning the Demon down with her knee on his stomach, snarling as she took a knife from inside her boot and attempted to stab the male in the forehead. Castiel rapidly came to her side when the Demon knocked the weapon away with a wave of his hand. It was obvious that this Demon wasn't low in rank, if he could use telekinesis.

"Damn, _Angels_," the Demon bit out as he punched Raziel in the jaw, knocking her on her back and away from him, "you cannot stop this!"

"Yes, we will," Castiel replied coldly from behind the Demon. He stabbed his knife into the Demon's throat, the blade having been coated in holy water and salt, the creature gave an unearthly, anguished scream. Castiel could honestly say that after so many centuries of seeing these things march around Earth like they owned it, he had no mercy toward them.

Raziel let her index finger connect to the Demon's weakened body, in which white light instantly transmitted through its mouth and soulless, black eyes. He stood there, staring down at the Demon's corpse with a blank face. "Well," Raziel straightened her back and looked toward the burial ground, "now that the complications have been defeated. I say we eliminate this Seal, how say you, Castiel?"

Castiel gave her a 'what-kind-of-question-is-that' frown. "Don't ask irrelevant questions, Raziel."

* * *

Raziel shrugged on her original dark brown-red peacoat with a contented sigh, her now dry hair reaching the middle of her back as she stood poised in the middle of the moderate motel room. Out of everything different towards having a Human's body, Raziel could actually say that she loved showers. They were relaxing, very relaxing.

" . . . Yes," Castiel glanced up from his seated position on the bed after speaking, his tan trench coat missing as he scanned her once before nodding towards the opposite side of the room from her. She blinked once at Rachel, almost surprised by her presence.

"Raziel," the blond woman greeted her almost warmly, but Raziel wasn't foolish – she knew Rachel did not like her at all. "I was just telling Castiel what the Second Seal is . . . It has been already broken, though."

"So you're telling him what the Second Seal _was_," Raziel tilted her head back to glare at the woman from underneath her eyelashes. "If it has already been broken, what advantage does it make in telling us?"

"_Raziel_," Castiel said in warning. "It's the Rise of the Witnesses from Revelation." He twined his fingers together and rested his chin atop of them, easing the muscles in his body. "It has already begun."

"Regrettably," Raziel perched herself on the opposite bed of him, crossing her legs and leaning her neck back. "Excuse my behavior, sister; is there anything else you wish to inform us of?"

"Yes. Michael sends you his recognition from what you accomplished in Wisconsin." Rachel then decided to take her impromptu leave, a breeze of air flashing through the air from her exit.

Raziel gave Castiel a raised eyebrow. "Is being recognized by Michael meant to make this whole farce _better_?"

"I doubt he cares what you think," her partner stated mildly, sending her a dry look. Raziel narrowed her eyes playfully at Castiel, a light twirl of the left side of her lips telling him that she found their foreplay entertaining. It felt like an eternity since the last time they had actually jested with one another, bickering back and forth. She could only recall doing so when no war was present, when they could actually smile at each other in God's Throne Room.

"Should we attempt to halt the Rise of the Witnesses any longer?" Raziel asked her superior, now standing and attentively walking towards him.

"No. It will be stopped, but not by our hand." Castiel gingerly touched her left shoulder – and they were at a diverse location. Raziel glimpsed once around the room, surveying the surrounding area with sharp, blue eyes. She was well-aware of the number of Angels around them, her brothers and sisters, some in clusters and other standing among themselves, trying to decipher the scene in front of them. Their current location was outside of a Naval Air Station, a well-known military posts, she could see the main gate to the lodging a good few kilometers afar. "Key West, Florida," her partner mumbled underneath his breath.

"Raziel, Castiel," a stone-like tone voiced from their far right. Raziel's eyes darted to the opposing black figure of Raphael, his black suit untouched with not a single wrinkle in her peripheral vision.

She narrowed her eyes on him for only a second before a small nod of her hear was directed at him. "Raphael, brother, may you decipher to us what seems to be the issue at hand?" She slipped on her most polite vocalization as she could. Raziel knew that this man was her brother, but it did not matter, he still was her better as an Archangel. Besides, she had a healthy amount for every Archangel – excluding Lucifer – since they are the only Angels to have met with God, their Father, face-to-face.

"Last night, three species went completely extinct here," Raphael noted calmly, analyzing the two angels underneath his half-lidded inky black eyes. "Seems strange, yes?"

"How were they murdered?" Castiel questioned softly, his voice only leveling that of a firm inquiry.

"Nothing distinctive, short kills, fast and tidy," the Archangel moved his eyes to gaze at the victims, though it made him seem as if he was rolling his eyes. "A Seal, I suppose. Albeit we have deduced that there will be more killings, we all would feel if yet another Seal has been broken." Raphael shifted his peering stare back to the duo. "What say you, Raziel? What was your pursuit in the field?"

" . . ." The female Angel felt suddenly as if a bucket of cold water had just been drenched over her head. Her tongue swelled and her throat grew sticky at the abrupt question. She was only gained little comfort when Castiel shifted only a small segment closer to her left side. " . . . Interrogation."

"_Ah_, yes," Raphael clicked his tongue as if he had just remembered something or reminisced a past memory. "Oh, yes, I remember now. Michael declared you on your '_special'_ ability." He winked at her from the corner of his eye. "You should feel prideful, little sister; Michael does not just hand out congratulation cards without first acknowledging their name."

"This is acceptable, actually," Castiel spoke for the first time since they had arrived. He had always been the silent approaching character, only speaking when finding it necessary to do so. "Raziel, go see if you can obtain any useful Intel."

Raziel bit her tongue, but gave no resisting reply. She would do it anyways, even if she did not like to use her '_special'_ ability – as Raphael had put it. She had once put someone in a vegetable state, only capable of drooling and sounding out moaning sounds – what kind of power was this to be prideful of, if it costs someone's mind if she lost focus just once?

Solidifying her back straight, Raziel began ambulating toward the three fallen victims that had lost their lives to something unknown – _Demons_, if she put in her own opinion. Albeit, you'd be surprised, Lilith, in all probability, hired supernatural creatures to do her corruptions and crimes. Breathing out a small, non-existent breath, Raziel raised a hand to the female Angel, who was examining the largest animal of the three murders. "Greetings, Lilah, do you take offense?" She indicated her heard towards the large dog-like structuring form, already preparing to touch her palm against its forehead.

Lilah's eyes widened only for a fragment of a second before her face slackened in soft lines. Lilah stood from her crouch, her white dress flowing to her knees with a small breeze. "Of course, Raziel." As Lilah exited away to stand at a near distance, Raziel attempted harshly to push away the thought that all of the other Angels around her had stopped in their business, just to watch her complete her orders. It was nerve-racking, even for _her_, to be under the attention of everyone present.

Crouching beside the animal, Raziel studied the species. It was large for a breed of Canis Lupus, its hind legs and mid-section was well-muscled and fed healthily, by her observation; he was fed a good meal at least three times a day, perhaps even four. His short-haired fur was grey in color, tinged a murky blue hue that caused the breed to stand out immensely. It was art for creation, the dog was. Raziel lifted his gums back to check its teeth for any sign of natural causes of death. Nothing. Flourished pink gums followed by bone white canine teeth.

Fluttering her eyes closed, Raziel pressed her palm against the dog's wide forehead, calming her functioning mind as she felt the heat of everyone's stares on her and the dog.

_Identified Name: Baxter_

_Classification: Thai Ridgeback_

_ Sex: Male_

_ Age: Proximity 3 Years of Age_

_ Signs of damage: Mild swellings around nape, clean slash across jugular vein. _

_ Opposing weapon:_ –

Raziel unleashed a brutal growl as she quivered her hand away from the animal, hissing as if she had been burnt, when truthfully, her mind felt as if it was in fiery flames. She sucked in a breath of the warm, humid air just as Castiel appeared behind her and brushed his fingers against her shoulder. "Raziel . . . Are you alright?"

She didn't answer him, leaning over the dog to touch the nape of the dog's neck to see a black inky emblem embedded underneath his fur where it was not seen. "Enochian Sigil," she muttered to herself, tracing her index finger along the octagon-shaped pattern. "Why put an Enochian Sigil?" She swiveled her head to express her question to Castiel, her legs stretching until she was fully standing.

"It's a Warding Sigil," Raphael slithered up to stand in front of the dog, adjacent to Raziel. "It was only luck that one of the employees saw them and sent a call to the authorities here – we got word of the call instantly."

"Definitely Demons' then," Lilah commented. "Besides us, and very few Hunters', they are the only ones who can actually interpret Enochian."

"So it is a seal." Raphael hummed thoughtfully before sending Raziel a curt glance. "What did you see?"

"See? As in visionary? Nothing of that sort, my abilities only run so far and the longer I remain there, the more it becomes painful," she considered cringing back at the look Raphael sent her. And she did, her upper-back collided with Castiel's chest. "I . . . only translated information. The only beneficial Intel I pulled out was the Sigil before I was forced to pull back . . ."

Raphael studied Castiel and her both, his small brown eyes narrowing, his face tight and pensive. After what seemed like a torturing century, he let out a small, guttural snort. "Disappointing," he spoke lightly, almost conspicuously. The word sent a spear of lightning through Raziel's mind, making her lips press together into a thin line. Archangel or not, she gave him her respect, the least he could do was offer his in return.

Castiel stiffened and blinked blankly, though Raziel knew he felt the same emotion they did in that moment: helplessness. Raphael finally broke his expressionless face with a crooked smirk, inclining it towards them as his eyes shone with mockery. "Well, it seems you two serve no other purpose here then, now do you?"

. . . Raziel averted her defeated gaze from his superiority just as Castiel gently tapped her upper-arm, their forms transporting away with the sound of fluttering wings. She frowned deeply at the motel room they had been in about twenty minutes ago. Dust coated at least an inch thick on every object besides the beds, which were stiff and uncomfortable.

"We need to discuss things with Dean tonight," Castiel told her blandly, his azure eyes scrutinizing her expression.

"I know. Together, or should one of us just visit him in his sleep?"

"We'll explain it better with us both present."

Raziel nodded absently. "Very well."

* * *

Dean Winchester was half-asleep. It was approaching three in the morning and he had moved and jostled around without rest for four hours straight. Perhaps it was because he was sleeping on Bobby's hard wooden floor, and the only cushioning he had was a small, thin quilt.

He furrowed his brow when he heard the sound of fluttering bird wings. He found it unusual that there would be birds flying about right now, especially so _close_ by. Dean blinked hard, clearing the fuzziness out of his eyes as he glanced above him for any source of intruder movement.

He turned over on his stomach, shifting his sleep deprived gaze toward the kitchen where the noise had been coming from. Dean stared at the two figures in the kitchenette. Castiel was leaning in front of the sink, his hands against the counter as he peered at the prone form of the Hunter. Raziel was to Castiel's left, her blue eyes roaming around the area with curiosity.

Dean felt the anger pool at the bottom of his stomach, rising through his chest and to his head. He refused to believe these things were Angels, there was just no way. No possible way. He huffed silently and glimpsed back at his little brother, who had his arms crossed on the couch, eyes shut as he slumbered deeply.

He turned back toward the 'Angels' and gradually gathered himself out of his pallet on the floor, his jeans and flannel shirt wrinkled from rotating so much on the floor. He walked toward the duo with a sense of difficulty, his mouth slightly open and his eyed disbelieving. The nerve of these _freaks_, to come talk to him.

"Excellent job with the Witnesses," Castiel said, giving the Hunter a distinguished look that bordered uncertainty.

"You knew all of this?" Dean couldn't fight the fury that leveled his voice.

The 'Angel' gave a pregnant pause before meeting his hell-raised emerald green eyes. "We were made aware."

Dean gritted his teeth harshly, fighting down from lashing out at the duo. "Well thanks a lot for the angelic assistance," he sneered nastily. "You know I almost got my _heart_ ripped out of my chest."

Raziel met his heated glare, though her eyes were expressively calm and serene. "But you didn't."

"I thought Angels were supposed to be – _Guardians_," Dean spoke the word as if it was absurd beyond measure, which it was in his opinion. Guardian Angels? Who came up with this stuff? _Angels are watching over you, _Dean's anger grew further when he heard his mother's words echoing in his head. "Fluffy wings, halos, you know, Michael Landon? Not _dicks_."

Castiel remained unfazed through the heavy insult. "Read the bible." His blue eyes were emotionless as Dean gave him a look that read 'come-the-hell-again?' "Angels are Warriors of God, we are _soldiers_."

Dean hastily scowled and knew he was rushing to conclusions, but he couldn't stand these guys anymore. "_Yeah_ and why didn't you both _fight_?"

Castiel tilted his head a small shift to the side, watching him with an unusual composure. Dean hated Angels if they all looked like this, all stoics and on their high-horses. "We're not here to perch on your shoulder, we had larger concerns."

"_Concerns_? There are people getting torn to _shreds_ down here! And by the _way_, while all this is going on where the hell is your boss, _huh_?" Dean tried to keep his voice level and quiet enough where it would not awaken Dean. "If there _is_ a God."

Raziel's eyes blazed with some unknown emotion, her hands tightening into fist. "There _is_ a God," she spoke firmly.

"Yeah, well I'm not convinced." Dean began his rant, the emotions and stress of the past few days finally spewing out into unorganized words. "Because if there is a God then what in the _hell_ is he waiting for? _Huh_? _Genocide_? Monsters roaming the earth? The freaking _apocalypse_?" He got close to Raziel, sticking his finger straight in her face. "And at what point, _Raziel_, does he lift a damn _finger_ and help the poor _bastards_ that are stuck down here?!"

She stuck up her nose and offered him a stony expression. "The Lord works in –"

"If you say '_mysterious ways'_, so help me, I will kick _your_ ass." When Dean was sure Raziel had no comeback, only remaining excruciatingly silent as she raised her hands in defense, he swiftly orbited his attention to a placid Castiel. "So Bobby was right. About the Witnesses. This is some kind of sign of the apocalypse."

"That is why we're here. Big things afoot."

Dean reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. "Do I wanna know what kind of things?"

"I sincerely doubt it. But you need to know." Castiel explained sullenly. "The Rising of the Witnesses is one of the 66 Seals."

"Okay. I'm guessing that's not a show at Sea World." Dean's stomach was already sinking below comfortable, making bile and a weary sickness travel through his head.

Raziel was plucking a teabag between her fingers, examining it closely and furrowing her eyebrows. Dean wondered just how much these guys knew about Humans, it was obvious that they did not know enough. The female '_Angel'_ turned and gave him a pointed stare. He had to admit, even if she was in a Vessel, Raziel was beautiful. Long curly brown hair, blue eyes, medium height, she certainly played the role. "Those Seals are being broken . . . by Lilith," the brunette said.

At hearing the familiar, revolting name, Dean made a face and his face began to color a deep red. He was going to kill that bitch. _Slowly_. " . . . She did the spell. She raised the Witnesses."

Castiel nodded his head slowly. "Mhm. And not just here. Twenty other hunters are dead."

"Of course. She picked victims the Hunters couldn't save so that they would barrel right after us." Dean threw up his hands. Why couldn't he be a normal person? Without having to deal with evil Demon sluts?

"Lilith has a certain sense of humor." Castiel shrugged leisurely, his eyes glancing at Raziel briefly, as if they were silent communicating on what they should say to him.

"Well we put those spirits back to rest." Dean argued, feeling a headache coming on powerful and strong.

Raziel denied his reasoning instantly. "Doesn't matter, the Seal was broken."

"Why break the Seal anyway?"

"You think of the Seals as locks on a door," Castiel explained.

"Okay, last one opens and?"

Castiel's gaze instantly shot to the wooden planks of the floor, his limited emotions small and barely noticeable, but Dean was extra observant. The male Angel was worried, worried and fearful. Castiel pushed himself away from the counter, stepping once to face Dean eyes-to-eyes. " . . . Then Lucifer walks free." Dean, much to his chagrin, saw Raziel physically flinch.

"Lucifer?" Castiel nodded at Dean's confused question. "I – I thought Lucifer was a just a story at Demon _Sunday_ School." He sent them both small glances, perplexed. "There's no such thing."

"Three days ago you thought there was no such thing as us," Raziel stated. "Why do you think we're here, walking among you now for the first time in two thousand years?"

" . . . To stop Lucifer."

"That's why we have arrived."

"Well," Dean hastily licked his lips as he gained a façade sarcastic face, "bang up job so far." He turned and leaned against the counter, right beside Raziel who was eyeing him ponderously. "Stellar work with the Witnesses. It was _nice_."

"We tried. There are other battles. Other Seals. Some will win and some will lose. This one, we lost."

Dean huffed, anger burning bright in his veins. He looked at Castiel as the Angel narrowed his eyes bitterly, a single emotion that Dean had ever seen in the man. Castiel walked towards him, Raziel now becoming trapped in between the two of them. "Our numbers are not unlimited," he said harshly, "six of my brothers died in the field this week. You think the armies of Heaven should just follow you around? There's a bigger picture here."

Dean was forced to avert his eyes when Castiel came closer, the pain and fear of losing more of his sisters and brother blazing in the Angel's azure blue eyes. Before he could continue, Raziel slipped in between them and put her hand on Castiel's shoulder, gently pushing him back. "You should show us some respect," he said coldly. "We dragged you out of _Hell_, and I can throw you back in."

Dean blinked as the power forcing his eyes to avert suddenly faded, and he swallowed visibly as Raziel nudged Castiel back more. He thought of what the two Angels had told him. About the Seals, Lucifer, about Angels – it was all too much to take in. Dean felt as if he was fixing to throw up.

He opened his mouth to say something, to turn back to Castiel and Raziel and apologize, to say that it was just distress and deprive of sleep, but when he glanced to say it . . .

. . . The Angels were gone, not even a sound had been formed.

Dean sucked in a breath, eyes snapping open as he glanced around wildly from being on the uncomfortable pallet on the floor of the living room. He turned toward the Kitchen to see if he could see Castiel or Raziel, but all he saw was Sam walking towards him, deliberately kicking the side of his pillow to get him fully awake. Had he fallen asleep? When had he gotten back to his bed? Had it all been a dream?

He leaned up, the muscles in his back straining from his awkward sleep. Sam sat his mug of steaming coffee on the floor between his legs as he sat on the couch, grabbing his flannel long-sleeve shirt to slip it on. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and blinked hard. "Huh," Sam raised his eyebrows, "you alright?" When Dean didn't answer, Sam fixed his shirt and frowned with worry. "What's wrong Dean?"

"So," he noisily cleared his throat, "you've got no problem believing in God and Angels?"

Sam ran his fingers through his hair and shifted to get a more contented sitting position on the couch. "Not really, why?" He bent down to grab his cup of coffee once more.

"So . . . I guess that means you believe in the Devil."

" . . . Why are you asking me all of this?"

Dean didn't answer, only gave him a look that read 'shits-fixing-to-go-down'.


	4. For the Welfare of this World

**_Of Angels and Grace – _**_For the Welfare of this World_

_"Standing in the eye of the storm_

_Whirlwind changes the landscape_

_People and places in the blink of an eye_

_Content to watch, mixed emotions appear_

_I'm happy with this sight_

_I'm happy with my place_

_At least I have been_

_But I'm thinking now_

_Just might be the perfect time_

_To step through the winds_

_I don't intend to be swept away_

_My eyes will betray me_

_But my feet will keep me grounded_

_My mind will keep me in one direction_

_I will cross through this storm_

_And emerge upon the other side_

_Changed, and in new lands_

_Cast your anchor, fall from the storm,_

_Walk with me"_

* * *

**_ Chapter 3:_**

"_Pater noster, qui es in caelis; sanctificetur Nomen Tuum_," Raziel recited the Lord's Prayer underneath her relaxed breath as she brutally kicked open the metal door that had been blocking her path. She had a clue to where Castiel currently was, but after receiving orders to come to this location by one of her superiors, she decided that he could do his own agenda. Besides, he was the one who aimlessly left her stranded, not even justifying what he was going to do.

Glancing succinctly around the decrepit hospital, Raziel wrinkled her nose at the stained, rusted walls. Water was slowly leaking down the sides of the dividers from a broken drainage pipe. Why was she here exactly? She had just received coordinates, which was it with no explanation if this was a Seal or not, she supposed it was though. Sharpening her blue eyes to examine anything suspicious, Raziel began walking deeper into the forsaken Hospital.

The corridor she was in was dark and murky with water slopping a few inches on the floor, grimy with age and dust. There were several doors on either side of her, some of them jarred open and others shut firmly. Frowning to some degree, Raziel became aware of how skeptical this scene played out in her mind. Abandoned, possibly haunted Hospital, multiple hiding areas for ambush, and darkness for coverage. If she was in her True Form, Raziel knew she would be able to see just fine, but in her Vessel, her eyesight was normal, average for a human. So if she was to be found knowingly by an intruder, she would haft to adapt quickly to these mortal senses.

_I can't turn around, _she mused quickly. _I was given an order . . . _Raziel fluttered her eyes closed for a split second before reaching downward and secured her salt and holy-water coated dagger in between her fingers, holding the weapon in a reverse grip as she began cautiously stepped to the first door on her right. There was no circumstance to be rethinking something so ridiculous. Since when had she begun revising orders?

". . . _adveniat Regnum Tuum; fiat voluntas_ _Tua_," Raziel murmured softly, barely audible. She halted to see if she could hear any threatening noises, but when perceiving nothing besides the scuttling of rats, she prodded open the soiled, mildew-ruined door. Fortunately for her, there was a window in this particular room, so she was provided with a healthy amount of antemeridian light.

Browsing the spacious expanse, Raziel grimaced at the smell that infiltrated her sense. Mold and sewer. Not a very refreshing combination of sorts. Seeing no bathroom or closet of any kind, Raziel soundlessly sealed the door closed. Adjusting her grip on the knife in her right hand, she pinched her lips tight together when realizing that the first door to her left was shut.

"_Hehehehe_."

Raziel swiftly twisted away from the door, her head snapping towards the source of the sounds of childish, soprano giggles. It sounded like a little girl. Holding the dagger in front of her with a blank expression, Raziel gradually made her way towards the commotion, back ramrod straight and legs tense and ready for anything at the moment.

Just as she neared the end of the corridor, Raziel unexpectedly turned around and kicked the last door on the left, watching her strength cause the entryway to cave and collide with the wall in a shower of splinters and a broken doorknob. Inside, the female Demon had the decency to genuinely seem shock. "You things reek of sulfur," Raziel muttered quietly.

The Demon began clapping mockingly, the sound bouncing loudly around the small room. "Well done," she congratulated with a cock of her head, "but you made a small, tinsy-tiny mistake," she winked, "this is kind of a, what do you Angels call it? Hmm, oh _yes_, an _ambuscade_?"

Raziel hurled herself to the left in just enough time for the male Demon behind her to miss his stab in the back, almost losing his balance at her sudden movement. "Do not certify yourself _lucky_, Demons," she told them callously as she pressed her back against the wall, asserting her situation carefully. "I have backup."

"You're lying," the male Demon snarled.

"Oh? Are you speaking of your little Angel boyfriend?" The female Demon smirked ruggedly. "He is currently spending time with Deano. Your Angel mind games won't work on me, sweetheart."

Raziel gave no facial or vocal response. She knew the best thing she could do was transport herself away, but those were not her orders – her orders were to put an end to anything dangerous here. Having a mental battle with herself, Raziel closed her eyes briefly as she realized that she had no other choice. Demons' could not kill Angels, only ultimately harm – she would haft to battle with them.

Transporting herself directly in front of the female Demon, Raziel kicked out her right leg, swinging until she knocked the balance out of the woman, sending the Demon to the ground on her back. The blade twirling once around her fingers, Raziel revolved around just in time to slash an inch away from the male's throat. He only scowled though, black eyes glaring at her with venom as his hand snaked out and seized the collar of her coat, jerking her to the far wall on her left.

Hurling against the now cracked wall, Raziel frowned while contemplating. "You can't kill me," she said with a matter-of-fact voice. "What is your purpose?"

"Nothing," the female grinned. "It's just fun."

A fist connected with Raziel's jaw, flipping her head back and splitting her lip just as the male Demon kneed her in the stomach. Perhaps not fatally harm, but that did not hold any meaning towards the sensation of 'pain'. If Castiel was near, the duo could more than likely kill these Demons' without difficulty, but he was not. Raziel clutched the man's fist as he tried to hit her once more, and swiftly turned his arm to where it was pinned behind his back, sending his chest slamming against the wall where she had been moments before.

"What's wrong, little Angel?" The man cooed with small gasping pants, his sarcastic tone derisive in every sense. "Wishing your meatsuit boyfriend was here?

"Do not test me," she hissed out between clenched teeth. "You do not know what I am capable of."

"No, but you're _just_ an Angel," the voice was precisely behind her.

Raziel put her index and middle finger against the male's forehead, managing to smite him just as she felt something penetrate through her skin from her back. The Demon in her grasp roared as he was forced back to Hell, his body going limp as he crumpled to the water-soaked ground. Raziel then felt the certain guilt enter her mind unwillingly as she peered down at the broken metal bedpost that had been stabbed into her back and chest.

Cassandra Blake was already dead, for that much she was certain.

And that made her angry.

"I may be just an Angel," Raziel curled her fingers around the post and jerked it out with a small, barely noticeable groan. "But through what is written, you are nothing but a Demon. And that is why you and nothing clarifies in the same sentence." She whipped her hand out and grabbed the female's head in her hand, fingers twining in her hair as the Demon began thrashing around for release. "You are nothing in God's eyes, through which you are nothing but dust particles in the air through mine."

Raziel disregarded the agonizing pain that swept through her head as she caused the Demon's brain to rupture into a massive aneurysm, which effectively caused inky black blood to leak from its eyes, ears, mouth, and nose.

* * *

"You do not look too well."

Raziel paused in lifting her shirt before completely peeling it off and glancing down at the gradually, very leisurely mending wound that had been inflicted to her Vessel. Castiel was behind her, standing stiffly under the arch of the doorway as he eyed her. _I truly apologize, Cassandra Blake, _Raziel mused silently, grabbing a rag from underneath the sink's cabinets and dabbing away the excess of blood.

"My Vessel is dead now, or slowly dying," she dropped the bloody rag into the stained sink before turning and looking at her partner fully. "Punctured the liver and right lung . . . I did not want that to occur."

Castiel did not alternate his stagnant position, his hair looking windblown and eyes edged to almost an alarming caliber. She did not rebuke him for it; she was as well, maybe even more. These Seals were becoming dangerous, even more so than before. "Was it a Seal?"

"No, I _was_ – I was given an order to go and scout out the place. Two demons were present." Raziel didn't indulge him any further, instead looking at her white tattered tee shirt and sighing lowly, allowing the clothing to be shoved into the wastebin. "Everything went swell with Dean? I heard that you sent him to the past for a lesson."

"A lesson I do not think he grasped," Castiel shrugged, his face condemned with a sullen expression. "He also knows of the warning Sam has not been heeding with his abilities. He is drinking Demon blood."

Raziel did not relish the sound of that. She could not bring herself to seem disgusted by that fact; Raziel could not even really understand some of the stuff that she had been sensing on herself the past week or so. Demon blood was hazardous, especially to someone like Sam Winchester. "Does Dean know?" As Castiel shook his head, she mused thoughtfully at that. The brothers were so secretive toward one-another that it was almost saddening. Do they not hold reliance with their blood kin? "I acquire a new shirt," Raziel glanced down at her shirtless torso.

There was a small flutter of wings, and just like that, Castiel was simultaneously pressing a tee-shirt into her hand. She pulled it on and grabber her coat, tugging her arms into the smooth fabric. "Do you believe that Sam will regard the cautionary?"

Castiel was already shaking his head before she could finish the inquiry. "No. Sam . . . has a need for power. The evil that is in this world almost always comes of ignorance, and good intentions, like Sam's, may do as much harm as malevolence if they lack understanding."

"It is only a matter of time, then. I do not desire to, but I will kill him for the welfare of this world. Only if power becomes his ultimatum." Raziel truly held a soft spot for the man, Samuel Winchester, because she felt for his damaged soul. He was lost, but his heart _was_ pure – so pure. She carefully buttoned up her coat and tied the sash tightly to her waist. Observing Castiel's troubled eyes, she softly spoke, "You understand that, yes?"

Castiel gazed off into his own thoughts for a moment before nodding solemnly. " . . . I understand."


End file.
